


Theater Grotesque

by catwing



Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Gen, Guns, I'm sorry., Murder, Violence, i wussed out halfway through writing this and put in a time break so that should tell u something., no good very bad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwing/pseuds/catwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>alt title: my dramatic return to writing fucked up fics that nobody should read</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theater Grotesque

Konoha has never left Kano till last before. He’s curious how he’ll react. 

He watches, carefully, hungrily, as Kano’s eyes flit from Kido’s body to Seto’s, their blood seeping onto the squeaky clean tile, and then back up to Konoha. 

His expression is eerily blank for a second, then he tilts his chin up with a smile that looks painful.

“What do you think will happen now,” Kano says, and his voice is icy, but it’s steady. “Do you think I’ll cry and beg and make a scene?” He arches one eyebrow, and there’s an air of theatricality about it. His eyes have a glassy cast to them, dead and bored. 

Konoha frowns. It’s frustrating of him to be this way. 

“Kano,” Konoha says, moving close, letting his face split into a grin. “You’re using your power, aren’t you? To hide from me.” Kano just looks at him, eyebrows tilted slightly as if to say, And? He doesn’t even flinch back when Kanoha leans toward him.

Konoha sighs, considering, then steps away and brings the back of his hand across Kano’s cheek, just hard enough to put him on the ground. The sound echoes through the empty hallway. On his knees, Kano ducks his head, breathing hard, but he still doesn’t make a sound. Konoha pulls his head back by the hair. 

“Don’t hide,” he murmurs, leering. “It’s no fun that way.”

The second time Konoha hits him he sees tears, so he does it again to make them fall. 

“You might as well drop the act,” he says, and hits him again. “You’re about to die, after all.” 

~ 

It’s only when Kano is sobbing, eyes shut tight and hands curls into fists, blood smeared across his face, that Konoha takes a step back. He leans in and touches Kano’s chin. 

“See?,” he coos, tracing a tear with one finger. “It’s much better like this.” 

He turns and takes a step back, reaching for his gun, and as he does the sound of Kano’s sobbing stops abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. Konoha turns.

Kano isn’t crying. His eyes are steely hard and clear, and as he slowly raises his head and looks Konoha dead in the face, Konoha think he hears him laugh, low and mirthless. There are no tear tracks. His shoulders are squared and he’s grinning ear to ear, mouth full of blood. 

“I really had you going, didn’t I?” he says, loudly and clearly, smiling wider. He says it with a showman’s flair. Had they been on a stage it would have echoed to the back row. It would have dazzled everyone in the theater.

Konoha puts a bullet between his eyes.


End file.
